


So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

by gracefullyuntitled (liamlisten)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I was inspired, and i even fit lourry in there, based off a tumblr post, just a really short au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamlisten/pseuds/gracefullyuntitled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After four years of constant studying, Louis still has shit handwriting, Niall's hair is almost brown, Liam has a method (that no one really gets), Zayn is a useless visual arts major, and Harry is just really cute, ok?</p>
            </blockquote>





	So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

**Author's Note:**

> Really, really short college/uni au based off some tumblr tags. 
> 
> Title from Ed Sheeran's Photograph

It began to be their 'thing'. Harry worked at the coffee shop, then Louis came to study with his boyfriend (Harry). Zayn followed Louis and Liam followed Zayn and Niall was welcomed by everybody. That was back in freshman year; now three out of five have grown beards, Niall's grown an impressive array of chest hair, and Harry has to keep his hair up with a scarf so he doesn't get any in the coffee. 

They sat in a circle, surrounded by papers and seemingly millions of books. Zayn had pencil marks around his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed at the artwork under his hand; it was his final project and he had absolutely no idea where he was going with it. Liam, who sat next to Zayn and in front of the 'Poster Wall' where local bands put their flyers, had his notebook out for his final exam in business with color-coded sections. One time Louis asked him for the key but none of them could understand the point to Liam's organization. 

Louis's hair had curls all through it; he hadn't had the time to brush it before his drama exam this morning. He bit his lip and squinted at the paper in front of him, trying to decipher the scrawls in the middle of the creases and kind of straightened out folds that plagued his psychology notes. Finally he gave up on one word and turned the page to Zayn's side of the table. 

"Z what's this word?" Louis asked with the tip of his pen pointed at the scribble in question. 

"Louis. The fuck if I know. You wrote it," Zayn muttered with an eye roll. Who needed art majors anyways. So Louis turned to the reliable one of the group who had the neatest handwriting and therefore the wisest. 

"Liam, what word is this?" Louis tried. 

Liam leaned over the stack of textbooks and took the notebook paper in his hand. 

"Um. It looks a bit like brain. Or cereal," Liam supplied. The right side of his lip was turned down in concentration. 

"Liam, you're no help at all." 

Harry stayed quiet, with one hand rested on Louis's thigh and the other had a highlighter in between his fingers. He had bright yellow streaks surrounding his mouth from biting the end of it. Harry's hair had grown at least 3 inches in the semester, Louis estimated. 

"Lou, focus," Harry muttered with a little grin and his eyes on his half-highlighted notes. Louis groaned then stared at his shorthand. He really did have shit handwriting. He supposed he should work on it, but he was graduating soon; there was no point really. 

Niall had his feet rested on the table and a thick textbook open on his thighs. He leafed through the pages filled with formulas and diagrams and idiotic engineering examples. By now he let his once blonde hair grow out so he was mostly brunette; if he kept a snapback on his head you could only see brown.

"Whoever said engineering is a good major needs to go fuck themselves on a spiked metal club," Niall groaned, "Fucking cunts."

The boys paid him no mind; they were used to the crude Irishman. 

And this had been the style of midterms and finals every semester for four years. But this all got Louis thinking. They weren't ever going to do this again. There would never be a study date with tens of empty cups of coffee scattered around the crudely put together tables. There would never be another time to complain about professors or the girl in Louis's drama class that doesn't get 'I'm gay'. There would no longer be a bored Louis and a laughing Niall or a blushing Harry or a brooding but secretly loving his friends Zayn or a nagging Liam. 

"Lads. Lads," Louis cried (maybe he's a bit dramatic).

"What Louis?" Zayn groaned, preemptively rolling his tired eyes, "My thing is due in 5 hours and I've got shit done."

"This is our last time doing this," Louis said with a wave of his hand over the mess of study material. All the boys looked up; they all wore the same sad expression on their faces. 

"We should, like, document it. Or something," Harry interrupted the bittersweet realization.

"I have my polaroid," Zayn supplied before reaching into his army green messenger bag and pulling out a matte black camera. 

Liam stood up first and the rest followed. The polaroid somehow made its way to the barista, Harry's co-worker/group friend Sophia, and the seniors wrapped their arms around their best friends and clutched the coffee cups that had allowed all-nighters and last minute cramming. They were all tired and hadn't showered in an embarrassingly long time, but even so they all smiled and hugged each other tightly. Each kept their copies of the photo, framed them, and kept them on their bed side tables or offices or window sill through marriages and break ups and moves. 


End file.
